


Salvation.

by Anon_Omis



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-10
Updated: 2015-03-10
Packaged: 2018-03-17 05:41:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3517529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anon_Omis/pseuds/Anon_Omis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Samson wants death, but she is convinced he can be redeemed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Salvation.

Despite the open air from the gaping hole in the wall, the dungeon cell still smelled of week old sick and sweat. Samson laid on his back, eyes closed as the female ran a damp cloth over his face and neck, wiping away the sweat and grime. They did not speak for some time as she continued, dunking the rag into a bucket of water and straining the excess out only to run it along his face again, over and over even after the dirt was gone.

Samson cracked one eye open when her fingers, still damp from the water bucket, slid through his hair. Her fingers were cool and the drops of water that rolled down his scalp refreshing. Samson liked her hands; thin and graceful, he imagined she would have had healers hands if she'd been a mage. Her hair, which reminded him of a moonless night, was braided over one shoulder and she wore a cream colored linen tunic with dark leather breeches tucked neatly into her boots. 

"I don't know why you're bothering to do this." He said as his eyes closed again. "When your brother sits in judgment of me tomorrow he will have me executed. No need to be to be presentable for that." 

The younger Trevelyan pursed her lips and huffed out a breath through her nose. She dampened her fingers once more and began running them through his hair, drawing small circles along his scalp and temples. "I'm going to ask that your life be spared, Samson. I know there is a good man in you and I would see you have a chance at redemption."

"A good man?" He scoffed. "I've made a good many more bad choices than good ones, girl. I don't think there is any salvation for me. I lied to the men who believed in me and fed them to the wolves, as it were. No, let me die tomorrow." When she looked ready to interrupt he continued. "I have suffered withdrawal from lyrium before, I can already feel the ache settling into my bones. Unlike your boyfriend I do not desire to go through this, not again. Don't make me beg."

Brianne huffed out a breath once more. "You know what I think? I think you are a coward, Samson."

"Spite ate away all that was good, kind, and loving till nothing was left but the spite itself, coiled 'round my heart like a great worm.  
And in my darkest hour, I turned from Her and vowed that I would destroy Her.  
At the moment of Her death I knew what I had done, and I wept.  
I shall bring the lands of my fathers to Her Word. Therein lies their salvation and mine.  
And She came to me in a vision and laid Her hand on my heart.  
Her touch was like fire that did not burn. And by Her touch, I was made pure again.  
Despair not, said She, for your betrayal was Maker-blessed and returned me to His side.  
I am forgiven."

Silence lingered several moments after she finished reciting The Canticle of Maferath. "There is salvation for you if you want it and work for it." She wouldn't meet his gaze as she reached into the water bucket and pulled out the rag again. "Sit up, please, let me wash your back."

Samson did as asked, slowly. He hadn't been lying when he said he could already feel the ache in his bones from the withdrawal, and as he pulled the soiled tunic over his head his shoulders and back popped and cracked loud enough for the sound to echo through his cell. 

As she had done with his face and neck, she gently slid the rag down his back, over his shoulders, down his chest, stomach, across his arms before taking careful care of his hands, she even cleaned under his nails. Samson kept his eyes closed and focused on his breathing. He could almost imagine her hands were those of a lover caressing away his worries and doubts, easing his stiff muscles. But no, she was not his to have, never was and never would be. 

"Have they been treating you well, Samson? Some of these bruises, they look too new to be from the Arbor Wilds, or even the journey back." She traced her fingers over his ribcage, watching his face for any sign of discomfort as she touched one of the largest marks. Perhaps all the ache in his bones wasn't from the withdrawal. Even prisoners in Skyhold were due certain standards of living; two meals a day, clothes, even allowed a few minutes to stand outside their cell with a guard and feel the sun on their face. No abusing the prisoners should be obvious. She would certainly be speaking with her brother and the Commander.

"They are treating me well enough, girl. Don't worry yourself over it." Samson laid back down not bothering to pull the tunic back on. The frigid mountain air was soothing on his skin. 

Neither of them seemed to notice the creaking of the door that led to the dungeons, and it wasn't until a pair of boots stopped outside of Samson's cell that Brianne stood up. "Samson, please finish cleaning yourself when you are able. I will try to get a clean change of clothes delivered tonight." 

Cullen remained silent as he opened the gate to the cell, locking it behind Brianne. "The Inquisitor sent me for you," he explained softly. "Your brother wishes your company for the evening meal, he is eating tonight in his private chambers."

Brianne smiled as she brushed a feather light kiss along Cullen's mouth, breathing in deeply. He always smelled of leather, armor polish and Ferelden, and she found it deeply calming. "A word, first?"

When Cullen nodded they walked a little ways off from the occupied cells so their voices wouldn't be heard. "He has fresh bruising, and broken ribs. Cullen, the guards know not to beat the prisoners, don't they?"

Cullen sighed, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. "They do know, and if this is true it is inexcusable. I will look into it, Bri. I will not allow my troops, my guards, to harm a prisoner in the Inquisitions custody. If I find they have I will punish the responsible parties appropriately." He cupped the side of her face, gloved thumb caressing her cheek. "I will see to it that he gets clean clothes and a clean set of sheets tonight, we'll move him to a new cell also. Now go see your brother, before he thinks you got lost."

Brianne smiled gratefully and placed a more firm kiss to his lips. Cullen was a good leader, and a very respectable man. He had questioned her a few weeks before on why she wanted to help Samson, and when her only response was that she owed him her life he didn't pry for more information. He took her at her word, and would leave it at that until she choose to tell him more, if she choose to. 

Brianne left the dungeons and made her way towards her brother's rooms. She would plead her case about Samson to the Inquisitor, she would finally tell him how Samson had saved her life many months before, before they had come to Skyhold, even while he under the influence of red lyrium. She would also tell him that Samson requested execution, it was only fair that she let his wish be known too. 

The decision would ultimately be up to her brother, but she would still make her case.

**Author's Note:**

> I may drabble a bit more off this in the future. Hope you enjoy. 
> 
> And if anyone is interested, I was listening to Active Child - Johnny Belinda.   
> It's a very nice song.


End file.
